


I've Been Living So Long With My Pictures Of You That I Almost Believe That The Pictures Are All I Can Feel

by lisachan



Series: Tales of the Summer Palace [23]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Miguel received a letter from his uncle Dimitri informing him that Miguel, his father, apparently came back from the dead. Shocked and curious to finally meet the man who only lived in the tales of his uncle up to now, Langley brings Celes and Shannen to meet him.
Relationships: Langley/Celes/Shannen, Miguel/Dimitri, Miguel/Lupe/Matias, Miguel/Matias
Series: Tales of the Summer Palace [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/414045
Collections: COW-T - the Clash Of the Writing Titans, COW-Tverse & Polyverso





	I've Been Living So Long With My Pictures Of You That I Almost Believe That The Pictures Are All I Can Feel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Where You're Coming From](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10387632) by [lisachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan). 



> This is the direct sequel of the story you find linked up there, so you might wanna read that one before this!
> 
> Also, [this](http://getdrawings.com/get-drawing#cartoon-pug-drawing-57.jpg) is Hezekiah.
> 
> Written for this year's COWT #10, W7, M1A, which wanted us to write SFW COWTverse fics.

For a very long time, Langley only knew of his father through the tales uncle Dimitri told him.

In his stories, which he always narrated as though they were legends, wrapping them up in epic and heroism, his father was always an iconic figure. The man who had freed a hundred sex slaves from their chains, killing every last member of a human trafficking cartel. The man who had conquered the wrecked buildings in the outskirts of the city to turn them into a shelter for those who needed it, homeless, lost souls, refugees, persecuted rebels. The man who, together with him, Jake Wand and Antonio Cavalieri, had for the first time sat down around a table to come to an understanding with his years-long rivals, dividing the city in squares, each competence of one of them and their people. Aimatopolis was never at peace, even after that, but its chaos had an order since the treaty, their war was fought with rules and regulations, and no crime went unpunished.

Sure, uncle Dimitri never lied to him. Being him an angel, he probably couldn’t, really. He never sugar-coated the truth of the horrible acts Miguel had committed in his life, the killings, the stealing, the selling drugs, the bombs, the wrecking. Leaving him.

Still, Langley didn’t grow up with a memory of his father, he was raised with the myth of him.

And he finds the difference between the two notions to be striking and quite impressive only now that he’s sitting across this table, uncle Dimitri sitting in front of him, sipping cardamom-scented green tea with a pinch of saffron, Celes on his right, wolfing down chocolate chip cookies dipped in milk and Shannen suspiciously pushing Hezekiah’s damp puggish snout to force him to sneeze.

His father is sitting in the bedroom on the other side of the door on the other side of the room. The legend he grew up hearing about is here in flesh and blood, and he’s about to finally meet him.

“My boy,” uncle Dimitri says, “Drink your tea.”

“I don’t exactly feel like it,” Langley says honestly, “I’m too nervous. My stomach’s in a knot.”

“That is precisely why I didn’t let you in the other room right away,” uncle Dimitri puts down the cup and sighs patiently, “It is important that you approach this conversation as calmly as possible.”

“I’m not sure it is at all possible.”

“I think everyone present in this room has faced challenges way more trying than what you’re about to face now,” uncle Dimitri says, raising an eyebrow, “And yet they survived. I have no doubt you will too.”

Celes chuckles, licking the corner of his lips to clean off a residue of chocolate. “He can’t see that,” he says, “When he’s facing something, he can’t see a thing past it. He doesn’t have the ability to see the big picture at all.”

“It’s easy for you to talk,” Langley frowns, turning towards his boyfriend, “You’re a Seer. All you ever see is the big picture.”

“I’m not a Seer and I can see the big picture,” Shannen shrugs, bumping Hezekiah’s nose and making him sneeze once again as the pug, sitting on his rounded ass, his short hind legs spread open, bounces on the floor.

“You’re from the same family as him!” Langley insists, “Or at least the same species. I come from a different world and the big picture is not my concern, okay?”

Uncle Dimitri sighs theatrically, turning his eyes towards the ceiling, clearly invoking the help of the heavenly host. “Langley, my dear boy,” he says, “Your father just made it back after a journey that brought him back to the land of the living from the very depths of the netherworld. The last thing he needs is for you to fuss about him, when it would be simpler to just face this thing with serenity and rationality.”

“When have I ever been calm and reasonable in my entire life?” Langley asks, frowning. The silence he receives as an answer is exactly what he was expecting to get. “Precisely. Now, we can keep sitting here and drink tea and feed Celes more cookies and let Shannen torture Hezekiah into a sneeze-induced asthma attack, pretending that all these activities will help me calm down enough to face the father I thought lost forever in a different state of mind, or we can just accept that the state of mind I’m currently in is the only one I can possibly be right now, and move on.”

Uncle Dimitri studies him intently for a few more silent seconds. Then he sighs, relaxing his shoulders and finally swallowing down what’s left of his tea, before standing up, the long white tunic falling in pleats down his legs, while Hezekiah, prompted by his movement, immediately starts running around. “Very well,” he says, “I see you can’t be moved from your unreasonable position. Follow me, then.”

He starts for the door, and Langley immediately jumps up, following him. Celes and Shannen are right behind him, but they keep their distance, respectfully. It was Celes who suggested they could all come together, when uncle Dimitri’s letter arrived, but none of them is under the illusion that what’s about to happen is about them all. They’re here for support, but it’s clear for everyone that Langley’s gonna be the only one among them who will be affected by what’s waiting for him on the other side of that door.

Uncle Dimitri pushes the door open and pops his head in, speaking with the man inside. “Are you ready?” he asks. There’s no answer to his question, and after a few seconds uncle Dimitri snorts. “Snap out of it, Michael,” he says.

“God almighty,” a rough, slightly accented voice finally answers, “Okay, okay. Come on in.”

Langley hasn’t even walked into the room yet, and already he’s got questions to ask. “ _Michael_?” he says, “Wasn’t-- Isn’t he called Miguel?”

Uncle Dimitri sighs and opens the door fully, to let them all in. “There’s much you don’t know. Much I didn’t say.”

“I thought you never lied to me.”

“I omitted.”

“Isn’t that a sin too, in your religion?”

“My sins are my own to confess to my God,” uncle Dimitri answers sternly, glaring at him, “Now, do you want to meet your father?”

Langley swallows, looking down. His muscles are all tense and he welcomes with gratitude Celes’ delicate hand when the boy slips his fingers through his own to hold him “It’s gonna be alright,” he whispers, “We’re here.”

Shannen leans in and gently hits Langley’s shoulder with his own. “Stop running in circles in your head. We’re gonna get through this.”

Langley breathes out, allowing himself a small smile. “Okay,” he says, “Let’s go.”

Uncle Dimitri nods and guides them all inside. The room is only half-lit, and there’s a man sitting on the edge of the only bed. His skin is dark, burned by the sun, and he’s got long brown hair twisted in heavy dreadlocks falling down his shoulders and chest. There are huge black feathered wings sprouting off his back, which he keeps folded. They look a little ruffled, and there are claws at the top of each of them.

The moment he sees Langley walk through the door, Miguel stands up, holding his breath. “It’s you…” he says, and then swallows. “You don’t really look much like me.”

“He’s all _her_ ,” uncle Dimitri answers instead of him, “A nice little practical joke our Heavenly Father chose to taunt me with.”

“I seriously doubt God is interested in taunting you at all, Dima.”

“You let me be the judge of that.”

“I’m sorry, my-- my name is Langley,” he interjects before the argument can get too heated, “My hopefully future mother-in-law, which you both know as Manila, your Seer, told me you’re always bickering, and that I should stop you if I don’t want to spend three hours just watching you fuss about. So,” he clears his throat, “…here. I’m stopping you. My name is Langley and-- and I’m your son.”

Miguel takes a second to let his words sink in and then sighs, sitting down on the bed again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Plenty of time for fighting with your uncle later.” He sighs, trying to center himself. “I imagine you’ve got questions.”

“A thousand, more or less.”

Miguel offers him an amused though quite sweet smile. “Ah, hyperboles. I used to love them too. Well… I’m here. At this point in my life I’ve got nothing but time, and Dima told me I’m not allowed to do anything else until I fully satisfy your curiosity, so… shoot.”

“Be careful, I could take the invitation literally instead of metaphorically.”

Miguel laughs, throwing his head back. “Funny. But don’t. It would be mostly unpleasant. I wouldn’t die and we’d all feel really awkward afterwards.”

“Fine…” Langley groans, rubbing his face with both hands for a second before speaking again. “I don’t know if I should start asking questions in chronological order or just in order of importance.”

“I can answer you anyway,” Miguel smiles, “Doesn’t matter much to me how you choose to ask the questions.”

Langley groans again and turns towards Celes and Shannen for a second. “He’s not making it easy for me. Like, at all.”

“Reminds me of someone,” Shannen answers ironically, while Celes just chuckles.

Then he gets closer to Langley, climbs on the bed where he’s sitting and kneels behind him, wrapping his pale, slightly muscled arms around his neck while he rests his chin on one of his shoulders. “Seems like my boyfriend needs me by his side, right now,” he says in a smile, speaking to Miguel, “Do you mind?”

“You’re too pretty not to want to look at your face, so be my guest,” the man smiles.

“Ew,” Langley says.

“A family of pervs,” Shannen comments, “If anything, now we know he truly is your father, after all.”

Miguel laughs again, while uncle Dimitri shakes his head.

“Really, though,” Miguel says, “I don’t mind if you all stay here. Seems to me you’re the closest people to Langley now, and Dimitri certainly is the closest person to me now. There’s nothing I cannot share with you all, no exception.” He nods and then turns back towards Langley, an encouraging smile curling his lips. “Ask away.”

Langley sighs, closing his eyes for a second to focus on himself. He can feel the sweet sweet weight of Celes’ body upon his shoulders, he can smell his scent, he feels the warmth of his skin, the discreet vibrato of his magic.

He feels protected – he feels safe. Even from the unexpected outcomes of this conversation.

So he breathes in deep and starts questioning him.

“Why did you leave me?” he asks. He chose not to ask questions chronologically but by importance, apparently.

Miguel offers him an apologetic smile. “You make it sound like I had a choice.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” Langley frowns, vaguely annoyed, “You could’ve stayed. You could’ve kept me.”

“The war needed me.”

“And it didn’t need uncle Dimitri, too?”

“Not in the same way,” Miguel smiles again, “I know it’s hard for you to understand. Believe me, it’s hard for me to explain too. I will do my best. Aimatopolis has always been a city at war, there’s never been a moment of peace between our people. We were put on this land to fight, it seems, and before Manila came our war was cruel and chaotic, and people died by the hundreds every day, in all our clans. Then Manila came, and the war assumed a different sense, a different meaning, even, but even after the Clash it kept going, in a much more orderly way, sure, but it was still happening. I believe we’re the only land of the polyverse that didn’t come to see some sort of peace after the Seer’s intervention. War is written in our genome, and we kept fighting despite the outcome, even though there were voices who tried to oppose it,” he says, and his eyes move on Dimitri as his gaze turns softer, “You must remember, my friend, don’t you?”

“I sure do,” Dimitri says, looking away and frowning, “ _Mine_ was the voice who tried to oppose it.”

“Right,” Miguel nods, “And I was tempted to listen to it, but my allegiance was for the Blood Devils, my clan, and I had to listen to their voice too. And theirs, having them been crushed by the City Angels, was a voice of vengeance.”

“So you didn’t want to keep fighting…” Langley summarizes, looking down.

“As proven by the fact that I had fallen in love with your mother,” Miguel smiles, “And that I was trying to build a family with her.”

“Then why did you still go?”

“My duty was to put the Devils before anything else,” Miguel admits with a sigh, “I was their leader, their voice. I might have been tired of fighting, but they surely weren’t. It was my responsibility to make sure their voice was heard. And also…” he takes a second, before finishing his sentence, “I believed that if I had carried on their last attack, maybe even sacrificing myself, they’d have understood the ultimate pointlessness of it.”

“Couldn’t you have tried to reason with them like all people do? With words?”

“It would’ve been a failure,” Miguel chuckles softly, “They were bloodthirsty, my people. Had I said something even remotely suggesting peace, or a surrender, they’d have deposed me and found someone else to lead them in battle.”

“But you’d have survived.”

“And what would have been the point of surviving if I had to betray my people to do that?”

“You’d have had me,” Langley answers, his voice breaking a little. He looks down, slightly embarrassed. “Wouldn’t it have been better? You could’ve raised me. You could’ve been my dad.”

Miguel’s smile softens down, and he reaches out, affectionately stroking Langley’s curls. “That will always be my greatest regret,” he admits, “Not seeing you grow up. Not having a part in your growing. But no, at the time I couldn’t choose between you and my people. So I died for them, and left you with my heart.”

Langley clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Your heart wasn’t here.”

“It was,” Miguel insists, his eyes searching for Dimitri once again. “I can assure you of that.”

Langley sighs, rubbing a couple tears off his eyes. “Okay,” he says, “What happened?”

Miguel takes a few moments before answering that questions. There are years in the answer he’s going to give, and it’s obvious he wants to do all in his power to do them justice. “I was in love with a young vampire, back then,” he says, “His name was Matias. He was the reason I fell.”

“You-- fell?”

“I will explain that later,” Miguel smiles, “Anyway. I was the leader of the Blood Devils, for sure, but he was their soul. Him and his brother Cruz were the two people around which the rest of the gang gathered, as they were the sons of the previous leaders, who had been killed in an attack caused by the Magic Sticks. Matias was hungry for revenge, angry, chaotic, but he was smart, and ambitious, and he had very good tactical skills. He had devised a plan that could’ve brought a few of us behind the enemy lines. The purpose of the group of killers we would’ve sent following that plan would have been to kill as many enemies as possible, possibly decimate the gang and conquer their territory. The plan was sound, but for some reason Matias didn’t want me to be part of it. I suppose that’s the reason why I _chose_ to be a part of it. The fact that he wasn’t sure made evident that there could’ve been a chance for sacrifice. And when I saw it, I took it.”

Langley looks away in frustration. “Some hero,” he says, “Leaving not only a child, but a lover behind too. Besides,” he frowns, looking back at his father, “What about my mother, then? If you already had a partner--”

“We both loved her,” Miguel smiles, “Each in his own way. Her name was Lupe. Matias actually brought her home first. She was fragile and glorious. She suffered a severely debilitating mental illness. She was beautiful and hurting, most of the time, and she was the only person I have ever seen Matias handle with a certain care. He was entranced by her, intoxicated by her. She wasn’t even vampire, she was one of the sad, lonely humans who kept getting caught up in our war, one of the maybe-victims of our conflict. He insisted on taking her in, and I opposed it, at first, but I was conquered on the long run. Dimitri never liked her, though,” he adds with a smirk.

Uncle Dimitri makes a face, shrugging. “It’s not that I didn’t like her. I felt nothing but pity for her. She was a helpless little being and she didn’t stand a chance against our reality. And as a matter of fact, she couldn’t make it.”

“What…” Langley swallows, “What was of her?”

“No one knows exactly,” Miguel looks down, the shadow of true pain, no matter how ancient, clouding his eyes for a moment. “Matias found her dead. She had overdosed. It was inexplicable because she had never used drugs before, Matias had made sure to protect her from that shit, and yet…” Miguel shakes his head, sighing deeply. “He was inconsolable for months. He believed the Magic Sticks to be responsible for it, somehow. That’s why he designed his final plan. As I said,” he adds with a small smile, “Hungry for revenge.”

“…I see,” Langley nods, slowly, “How old was I, back then?”

“Very small,” Miguel chuckles a little, “I could hold you up with one hand. I was fond of you, but Matias couldn’t stand the sight of you.”

Langley looks up, frowning. “Excuse me?”

Miguel’s smile is nothing but apologizing. “You reminded him of her. As Dimitri said, you look like her a great deal. He could never really get over her death, because her death had been pointless, sad and lonely. And watching you… that was too much for him to bear.”

“So he let you take care of me by yourself.”

“And the moment I chose to leave, I tried to do right by you and left you with the person I knew would always take care of you, no matter what.”

Langley looks up at his uncle for a second. Then he turns back to his father and points his thumb towards uncle Dimitri. “What’s the deal between the two of you?” he asks, “Why do you feel so much for each other? Were you lovers?”

“We never got to that point.”

“But you loved each other.”

Miguel smiles again, looking at Dimitri. “How honest can I be with him?”

Dimitri waits a few seconds, before answering. Then he does. “Tell him everything,” he says, “I raised him up as my own child. He deserves to know.”

Miguel turns back to Langley, as Shannen snorts. “You could tone down the intensity, though,” the young man comments, dismissively tying his long black straight hair up in a little ponytail, “He’s gonna have a heart attack if you keep talking like the fate of the world hanged by your every word.”

Miguel laughs, his shoulders shaking with every laughter. “I like your taste in men, son,” he says, “These two are strong. One like you need people like them.”

“You don’t know me,” Langley says in a low voice, “You don’t know what I need.”

“I believe I know more than you know,” Miguel smiles softly, “Right now, you need answers, though. And so, to answer your question, yes, Dimitri and I loved each other. Back when we were both still angels in heaven.”

Langley opens his eyes wide as the hold of Celes’ arms loosens around his neck. “You… you were an angel too? You weren’t always a vampire?”

“And I wasn’t just _an_ angel, either,” Miguel chuckles, “Michael the Archangel, that’s what they called me. And, as I said, Matias was the reason I fell. Dimitri and I shared a feeling of love, back when the both of us were still angels. It was deep and very complicated and heavily spiritual, and when I met Matias I felt a different kind of love, and I fell for it.”

“And that was the end of us,” Dimitri adds in a resigned tone.

Miguel sighs and stands up, walking towards him. He reaches out for him, holding his hand tentatively, and when Dimitri pulls back, visibly embarrassed, Miguel just snorts and hugs him. “You big flying idiot,” he mutters, “You can’t end what is not finite.”

Langley clears his throat, bringing his father’s attention back to himself. “So what happened? You sacrificed yourself for your people and then?”

“And then I died, obviously,” he shrugs, looking back to Langley, “And I remember nothing of that. I don’t know why, and this should probably make me question the validity of at least part of my beliefs, but there was no underworld, or at the very least none that I can remember. I was, then I wasn’t anymore. And then, suddenly, I was again.”

“When?”

Miguel smiles, his eyes moving on Celes. “But when your pretty boyfriend caused all hell to break loose by splitting his soul in half, of course,” he nods. “That I only came to understand afterwards, though. When I came back to life I knew nothing of Celes, or Celestia, or what had caused her to come into being. I only knew I remembered dying down to the very pain I felt as I disappeared, and despite that I was still breathing. And I had wings again! I had lost them, falling. But coming back restored them, even though in a different color.”

“Can I ask a question, now?” Celes says, letting go of Langley’s shoulders to stand up again, “How the hell do I factor into all of that? I mean, I get that Celestia caused it, and I caused Celestia, so it all comes from me, but _how_?”

“Giovanna says it has everything to do with the power imbalance you brought to the world,” Miguel nods, “You see, the Seer is the one thing around which the stability of the polyverse turns. It is a role that has its rules, and you broke them all, which caused all magic to start acting weird, everywhere, including, possibly, where I was. That’s the best way she could explain it, and I tend to trust her on magic issues, she’s got a hell of a talent with that.”

For the first time since this conversation started, Langley allows himself a little smile. “And with many other things.”

“Ah, you had sex with her too?”

“I had sex with almost all living creatures I ever saw, dad,” he answers with a sigh.

Dimitri holds his breath and Miguel lets go of a cute, tender laughter. “You called me dad,” he says.

Langley avers his eyes, blushing vividly. “Don’t get used to it – it just slipped my mouth.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Miguel smiles more openly, “It was nice anyway.”

“…so,” Shannen clears his throat, daring to ask the question no one wants to ask now, “What now?”

“Mmh,” Miguel tilts his head, pensively, “I don’t know yet. I have no idea how I function, I have no idea what kind of creature I am. It is possible I will have to take a trip upward to pay a visit to someone I haven’t seen in quite a little while. He is usually the one with all the answers. I’m confident He will see me. We used to be friends.”

“Just to make sure,” Shannen says, gesturing vaguely, “You’re talking about actually going to visit your God.”

“Yes, I am,” Miguel nods.

“Sure, just checking.”

“And how should we call you?” Celes asks, curious, “Michael or Miguel?”

“Michael ceased to be the moment I fell from the Heaven,” Miguel smiles at him, “I don’t know what or who I am know, but whatever and whoever that is, it’s closer to Miguel than it could ever be to Michael. So keep calling me Miguel, no problem.”

“He calls you Michael, though,” Langley says glumly, “Uncle Dimitri. He still calls you Michael.”

Miguel’s eyes stop on Dimitri for an indulgent look, and then move back towards Langley. “That’s a habit I can’t quite seem to be able to break. But it’s fine. That’s how he knew me most his life. That’s who he still wants me to be. So he can call me like that.”

“So I should call you the way I want you to be, too?”

Miguel stops for a second, feeling the weight of his son’s words.

Then he nods.

“Dad, then,” Langley says quickly, before regretting it, “I will call you dad.”

Miguel chuckles, barely managing to contain his happiness. “You just told me two minutes ago that I shouldn’t get used to it.”

“I’m changing my mind,” Langley shrugs, looking away, “Am I allowed?”

Miguel laughs, and covers the distance between Langley and himself, wrapping his arms around him. At the same time, his dark wings spread, and they too close around them both, protectively, shrouding them in a darkness that feels at the same time new and familiar. “Of course you are,” his father whispers in his ears.

Langley closes his eyes and relaxes against his chest. There are still questions sailing in his head – he wants to know more about his mother, he wants to know about Matias, he wants to know about his father from _before_ , the one uncle Dimitri knows and withheld from him, and most of all he wants to know what’s gonna happen now, what does the future have in store for them.

But there will be time for those questions, and there will be time for their answers.

They’re in no hurry.


End file.
